In an Oklahoma green pasture
Is an unmarked hidden grave
No stone to bear a special verse
Or marker to engrave
Yet still a soul to remember
A branch in a family tree
Still a love in someone's life
In memories and dreams
A man who in his life he traveled
Across a country vast and wide
Carrying pieces of his native ancestry
Buried deep inside
From the Ozarks Mountains and its valleys
To Oklahoma and its tree lined hills
Never settling, always roaming
A destiny to fulfill
And planting seeds of his existence
That across generations would concede
That he had left a legacy far greater
Than money, fame, or greed
For he lived his life a pauper
Never having material gain
But leaving behind a trail of hearts
Always to remain
Like a bee who pollinates the flowers
Like the rain who makes to grow
We are the seeds our ancestors planted
Each a unique legacy to be sown
And the harvest is in remembering
Paying tribute to those who have died
By remembering and honoring
Always cherishing them inside!
No comments:
Post a Comment